


To Serve and Protect

by reapertownusa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-23
Updated: 2010-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 22:15:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reapertownusa/pseuds/reapertownusa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A suspicious police officer takes advantage of Dean's willingness to do anything to protect his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Serve and Protect

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Story contains sexual coercion of a minor - dub-con between an adult and underage teenage Dean. See author's note for prompt details. 
> 
> Author’s Note: Written for spn_blindfold prompt - _young Dean (13-15? early teenage years) being coerced into sexual acts by a cop who is suspicious of John, and uses that as leverage against Dean. bonus if Dean walks away from the encounter confused about what happened and his own sexuality...maybe the cop convinces him that because he got off, he wanted it._

With an annoyed sigh, Dean slung his bag over his shoulder and headed down the street. He didn’t get why he had to go to school. Sammy was smart enough for the both of them and it wasn’t like he needed a diploma to hunt monsters. 

Instead of wasting his time not listening in class he should be back at the motel taking care of Sammy. His little brother had been stuck in bed with the flu all week. The only reason Dean had even bothered to go to school today was because his freaky brother had begged him to pickup his homework. 

He made it six blocks from the school before he keyed in on someone following him. The guy was doing a decent job of staying back, but Dean had learned to track from the best and he sure as hell knew when someone was on his tail. Veering off the street that led back to the motel, he headed towards the arcade instead. Whoever the guy was, he didn’t want to lead him back to Sammy. 

Out behind the arcade, he waited for the man to either confront him or go away. He’d have to do one or the other because now Dean was staring straight at him. It wasn’t until the man moved closer that Dean realized it was a cop. This day just kept getting better and better. 

“I didn’t do nothing,” Dean automatically said. 

“Got a guilty conscience there, son?” the officer asked. 

“Dude, I’m not your son.” Beneath his breath he added, “I’d have be your grandson...” 

With the kind of smile that wasn’t driven by humor, the man stepped closer, so close that Dean took a step back. “I’m aware. It’s actually your father we need to talk about.” 

A jolt of panic shot through Dean. “Is he okay?” 

“We’ll have to see about that. He might be in some trouble.” 

“What kind of trouble?” 

“The legal kind. For starters, I need to search your bag.” 

Dean clutched the strap of his backpack tighter, shaking his head. “What’s that got to do with my dad?” 

“I’m following up on an anonymous tip, you want to cooperate or do I need to bring your father in for questioning?” 

Dean only had one bag and used the same one for both school and hunting. He tried to remember to take the stuff out in between, but things had been crazy with the latest hunt and Sammy being sick. Organizing his stupid bag wasn’t exactly top priority and he didn’t remember what all was in it besides Sammy’s homework. At the least there was a butterfly knife, salt, a lighter and some silver rounds. 

Quickly he considered his options. His favorite was kicking the cop in the nuts and running like hell, but that would only be more trouble for Dad if this officer really did know anything. The safer option was just letting the cop have his fun. It didn’t matter what the man found in his bag, Dean was sure enough that he could talk his way out of it. 

“Go ahead and look at the stupid bag. My dad didn’t do anything.” He shrugged the pack off his shoulder and held it out to the officer. “It’s just a bunch of school crap.” 

The officer dug through the books and papers while Dean glared at him. Sammy was going to make a fuss about his papers being all wrinkled and if the guy bent any of the pages on that shiny new textbook all hell was going to break loose. 

“And a knife?” the officer asked, pulling out the butterfly knife. 

Dean grimaced a little, but shrugged. “You ever been to Detroit?” 

“No.” 

“The student handbook tells you to bring a knife, you know, for protection.” 

“That’s what I thought. And this?” Tilting the bag low enough for Dean to see, the officer revealed the glint of a pistol at the bottom. 

Though he swallowed hard at the sight, he didn’t let the officer see his well shielded panic. “New York.” 

The officer made a grating sound that was probably supposed to be a chuckle. “You’re a funny kid, but you see, I know all about your dad and what he’s up to.” 

“You don’t know nothing about my dad.” He tried for confidence but the words came out uneasily. 

“Do you know what else I hear they have in New York City?” Dean shook his head. He’d only ever actually been to upstate New York. “Red-light districts.” 

Dean just stared at the officer. The man said the name like Dean should know the place and maybe if he’d been to New York he should so he played along. “Yeah, so?” 

“Bet you needed your gun there.” 

“Uh...sure. We done?” 

Again the officer crept closer, quietly backing him against the wall. Dean fought back the urge to push the man away. 

“If his son is packing, what am I supposed to think about what your father has stashed away? A man like that could be looking at a lot of jail time.” 

The unease was getting harder to hide in his eyes as he looked up at the officer. If Dad got busted because he was too lazy to clean out his bag it would screw everything up. Once they started digging, the police would find everything else and then they would lock up Dad and take Sammy away. 

“He doesn’t know about the gun.” 

“Father of the year...” Dean curled his fists. “You’re sure a little pistol yourself,” the officer continued. “Maybe we can make a deal. I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything if you show me what you learned in New York.” 

“What I...” 

Dean’s words were cut off as the officer gripped the front of his jeans. Shocked at the unexpected touch, Dean immediately tried to push past the officer. The much larger man grabbed him, slamming him back against the wall. 

“You want your daddy to go to jail?” Dean clenched his jaw and shook his head. “I’m going to walk over to that building,” the officer said as he pointed towards a partially finished structure across the street. “You want to keep your father a free man then you meet me in there, okay?” Dean nodded. Not satisfied, the officer squeezed the front of his jeans tighter. “Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good, boy.” 

The officer patted the zipper of Dean’s jeans before turning and walking away. Dean waited until the man disappeared around the corner before letting his knees go. He slid to the ground, rubbing his hands over his face and trying to pull himself together against the dropping pit in his stomach. Maybe if he ran now the officer wouldn’t be able to track him down, but if the cop already knew about Dad... 

He looked at his watch and dug his cell phone out of his pocket. The phone on the other end rang a couple of times before he heard Sammy on the other end of the line. He took a deep breath and hoped his voice wasn’t as shaky as the rest of him. 

“Dean?” the sniffly voice asked again. 

“Yeah, it’s me, Sammy...” Dean ran his hand over his hair and tried to think about what he was even going to say. In the back of his mind he knew there was a chance he might not walk back out of that building. “Um...I’m gonna be a little late, okay?” 

“But I can’t do my homework until you get here.” 

“I know. Sorry.” 

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Sammy spoke again. “You okay, Dean?” 

He realized Sammy had been waiting for some snarky reply about what a super geek he was, but Dean didn’t have it in him right now. “Fine. You drinking enough?” 

“Yeah, but my throat still hurts.” 

“I’ll pick you up some more suckers on the way back.” He dug deep into his pocket to make sure that he had enough change left to make good on that promise. 

“I’m getting hungry and I ate all the soup for lunch. You’re not gonna be too late are you?” 

Dean took a steadying breath before speaking again. “I don’t really know. If I’m real late...Sammy, you need to call Dad, okay?” 

“Why?” 

“Just promise me you will...and if he doesn’t pick up, you need to call Pastor Jim.” 

“Seriously, Dean, what’s wrong?” 

“You’re a sick little whiny bitch, that’s what’s wrong,” Dean replied in the best big brother voice he could summon at the moment. 

“And you’re a jerk.” 

“Just get some rest, Sammy.” 

Before his brother could reply he snapped the phone closed. He pressed it to his forehead, willing himself to wake up, but when he opened his eyes nothing had changed. Grabbing his bag, he scrambled to his feet. He glanced across the street before jogging to the construction site on the other side. Ducking beneath the caution tape, he weaved his way toward the concrete structure that didn’t have any doors in place yet. 

He barely made it through the closest entryway before a hand latched onto his arm and swung him against the wall. When he got his bearings, he looked up to see the officer staring down expectantly at him. Dean stared back up at him with confused eyes. 

“Well?” The officer’s impatient tone only made Dean all the more uneasy. 

“What do you want me to do?” Dean asked uncertainly. 

“You are a lying little bitch aren’t you?” Dean didn’t answer because he didn’t know what the man wanted to hear. “At least you’re pretty enough to make up for being such a stupid little fuck.” 

Dean’s stomach flipped at both the officer’s words and the ravenous look in his eyes. He fought to keep his voice steady as he spoke. “So after this, you’re gonna leave my dad alone?” 

“If you make it good.” 

Nervously Dean licked his lips. It was bad enough that the guy wanted to do whatever he was going to do, but Dean didn’t know if he could make it good – he only had a vague idea what ‘it’ was. He tried to squirm back into the wall as the officer leaned in, lips drawing down over Dean’s. 

Remembering the man’s words he forced his body to relax, trying not to gag as the tongue tangled with his. He tried to pretend he was kissing a really cute girl that just happened to have really nasty breath and a beard. It didn’t work. As the man deepened his kiss, Dean heard the sound of a zipper being undone. It took a moment to realize it was his own. 

When the man pulled his tongue out, Dean fought to catch his breath. He stopped breathing all together when a calloused hand shoved into his boxers. Dean squeezed his eyes closed as the man’s large fingers rubbed over the tender patch of skin on his lower abdomen. 

“Still just peach fuzz, huh?” The hand searched lower, grappling where Dean had only ever felt his own hand. “Must be a late bloomer ‘cause you’re filling in nicely.” 

Dean swallowed down the bile and blinked back the stinging moisture in his eyes. He was going to have to suck it up because it was only going to get worse and he wasn’t going to stand here balling like a little baby. 

The officer jerked Dean’s pants down past his hips with a free hand while the other continued to stoke him. All Dean wanted was for the man to go away, but he still felt the heat building in his groin. Bewilderment made his eyes blur with the moisture of held back tears. 

“You like that, don’t you?” the man asked. Dean didn’t know the answer and was relieved when the officer didn’t wait for one. “Knew you would.” 

The hand that wasn’t working his front reached behind and squeezed his butt. It ran over the curves, stopping just above his shaking thighs. “Anyone ever touch you back here?” 

“No, sir,” Dean replied through clenched teeth. He didn’t know why anyone would want to. 

The fingers pushed deeper, parting his muscles and shoving against him. “Then you’ll really like this.” Dean tried to scramble away at the foreign burning of a finger shoving inside of him. The officer held him still, pushing in further. 

“Stop! Let me go!” 

A hand shot up to clamp over Dean's mouth. “Okay," the officer verbally agreed, while his finger shoved in deeper, twisting. “I’ll let you go and drag in your dad instead.” For a long moment the man looked into Dean's eyes before slowly removing his hand from Dean's mouth.

“No...I’ll do it. Please.” 

“Please...?” Dean’s panicked mind tried to grasp at what the man was asking, but he didn’t understand the question. “What do you want me to do to you?” the man clarified. That didn’t help. The officer must have sensed his confusion because he pushed further. “Do you want me to fuck you?” 

Dean’s brow furrowed in confusion. “How would you? You’re a guy.” 

The officer laughed. “This is going to be a very educational experience.” 

Jerking him around, the officer shoved him forward so that his face was pressed into the wall. Dean didn’t know what the officer was going to do, but was thankful to not have to look at the man while he did it. That was until he felt something larger pressing against the aching area the fingers had just pulled out of. 

He yelped as it tore in, shoving in and out. Through the pain he slowly put together what was happening and tried to pretend that he hadn’t. Part of him hoped the officer planned on shooting him when he was done because he didn’t know how he could face Dad. The other part of him just wanted it to be over so that he could get back to Sammy. 

It seemed like forever before it was over. The seeping, sticky feeling left inside of him was nearly enough to make him lose his lunch, but before he could the man turned him around. He looked down as the officer’s eyes roamed over him. 

“I told you that you’d like it.” 

Dean’s muddled expression deepened to a perplexed grimace. The man ran his hand up Dean’s thigh. It wasn’t only the touch that startled him, but the realization that he was hard. 

“You don’t get hard if you don’t like something, do you?” the officer asked. 

It was the first true thing the man had said, but Dean hurt in ways he didn’t know he could and he sure as hell didn’t want this old creep touching him. Or maybe that was just what he was trying to tell himself because as the man quickened the movements of his hand Dean’s legs became unsteady before his body shook with the most intense orgasm he’d ever felt. 

Dean steadied himself against the wall behind, his dumbfounded gaze locked on the floor. Tears sprung free despite his best efforts to choke them down. He’d just come in a guy’s hand. To emphasize it, the officer wiped his sticky hand across Dean’s wet cheek. 

“You’re welcome, son.” 

Dean just stood frozen as he stared up at the man. 

“Now you and your daddy are going to be staying out of trouble aren’t you?” Dean couldn’t find the words, but nodded. “And you won’t be telling him about how much you like it when men fuck you?” he asked as he played his thumb against Dean’s inner thigh. 

“No, sir,” he whispered. 

With a satisfied smile on his lips, the officer tucked Dean back into his boxers and pulled his pants back up. He zipped the jeans before giving Dean a sharp slap on the butt. 

“Go on home then.” 

Dean hurriedly grabbed his bag off the floor and jogged from the building, only half believing the man was really going to let him walk away. As he ran his hand dug into the bag, pulling out the pistol at the bottom and tucking it into the back of his jeans. 

He didn’t run back to the motel, not straight away. For all he knew the officer was following him. At least it was dark enough that no one could see the tears burning his eyes. Somehow he had to pull it together before going back to Sammy. 

Slipping in the backdoor of the theater, he headed into the bathroom. In the stall he dropped his pants and tried to clean himself up with shaking hands. He pretended not to see the blood on the toilet paper, but it terrified him. Maybe it was just a little cut or maybe he was going to bleed to death. He didn’t know. It wasn’t like he could go to the hospital if it was something bad. Dad could never know. 

Pulling his pants back up, he dropped his bag beside him and sunk down to the dirty tiles. He ducked his head to look beneath the stall divider and make sure the bathroom was really empty. When he was sure he was alone he curled his knees up to his chest and finally let go. 

At the sink he splashed water over his face, but couldn’t look himself in the mirror to see if it had even helped. A new panic rose in his chest when he looked at his watch and saw how late it was getting. Sammy was going to call Dad. 

Again he dug the phone out of his pocket and tried to convince himself that he would be able to talk. He dialed the phone as he slipped out of the theatre and back into the night, sure enough that he had lost the officer. 

“Dean, where are you?” Sammy asked as soon as he picked up the phone. 

“I just left the theatre. I’m on my way.” 

“With suckers?” 

“Yeah, I’ll get them.” 

“Good. You sound like you’re getting sick too. Want me to make dinner?” 

Dean hadn’t realized he’d still been sniffling until Sammy mentioned it. He wiped his nose on the sleeve of his shirt as he walked. “Like I really want you burning the motel down...but thanks, Sammy.” 

“For what?” 

It wasn’t the offer to make dinner - it was the reminder. No matter what happened, as long as Sammy and Dad were okay, he would be too. 

“Just because.”


End file.
